


Royal Flush

by Singofsolace



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Bondage, Cunnilingus, Enthusiastic Consent, F/F, Gags, Light BDSM, Porn With Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Praise Kink, Smut, Strip Poker, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:53:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27646435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singofsolace/pseuds/Singofsolace
Summary: Zelda Spellman is having trouble sleeping, so she stays up late playing cards. Lilith, having heard her prayers earlier that night, challenges her to a game of strip poker. Smut ensues.This was originally written in response to the Madam Spellman Fictober Challenge prompt: Crack!
Relationships: Zelda Spellman/Lilith, Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith
Comments: 39
Kudos: 138
Collections: Madam Spellman Fictober Challenge





	Royal Flush

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place the night of Part Three, Episode 1. I guess it could be considered canon-compliant, if Lilith and Zelda had sex the night the coven prayed to her and then never spoke about it again xP 
> 
> This strip poker fic has been three weeks in the making. I still have four other versions of it sitting in my drafts, if anyone wants to read them. I've never written BDSM before, but this fic dips its toe into that territory. Please let me know how I did, because I'm really nervous about my skills in that department. 
> 
> Lastly, heed the tags!

It was long past witching hour, and yet, Zelda didn’t have any desire to sleep, especially when Hilda was looking upon her with such sad, knowing eyes. 

“You _have_ to sleep, Zelds,” Hilda said, her voice a quiet, pleading thing. But two-and-a-half centuries of dealing with her sister had made Zelda immune to that blessed look and tone.

“I will, sister. I just need to finish transcribing this text,” Zelda lied smoothly—she hadn’t been able to focus on the text for nigh-on three hours.

Hilda narrowed her eyes. “We’ve only got a handful of students, and no peers to speak of within the coven. What could possibly have a deadline so pressing that you would need to lose sleep over it?”

Zelda threw down her quill, making a show of pressing her thumb and forefinger to her nose as if in pain. Hilda immediately relented, which made Zelda feel something small and fragile snap inside her, knowing how easy it was to manipulate her sister. Ever since Sabrina’s harrowing, she’d promised to be better, to do better, to treat her sister with the respect she deserved. And yet, here she was, lying to her for pure convenience’s sake.

“Oh, you could’ve told me you had a headache, love! I know how hard it is for you to sleep with one.”

Guilt sat heavy in Zelda’s chest as she met Hilda’s gaze. “I wouldn’t want to keep you awake with all my tossing and turning and pacing about the room. You know what my headaches are like.”

Hilda seemed to digest this information rather slowly before she cocked her head to the side, as if she wanted to take her sister in from a different angle. Her eyes were a bit too bright as she said, “Do you want me to make up another room for you? The Academy is full of free beds,” Hilda coughed, shoving down any emotion that sentence brought to the surface. “I know with your…headaches, you like to be alone. You don’t have to sleep with me in… in the Headmaster’s room, if that’s what’s troubling you.”

Zelda’s stomach flipped, suddenly aware that Hilda could see right through her, and she was only acting like she believed the story for _her_ sake. Having an empath for a sister could be terribly inconvenient.

“Don’t be ridiculous. The room is fine,” Zelda ground out, though even as she said it, she could feel the phantom weight of the Dark Lord’s hand on her shoulder; the tinkling of that blessed music box; the swish of a dress; the force of—

“Zelda?”

Zelda shook her head, reaching for her cigarette. “Would you be a darling, sister, and brew me a cup of your tranquility tea? It does wonders for my headaches.”

 _Liar_ , a cruel voice whispered, breath heavy on the base of her neck. She waited for Hilda to cheerfully agree to her request before whipping around, but there was no one behind her.

Zelda took a long drag on her cigarette, letting the smoke swirl inside her lungs for a moment too long before breathing out. She was addicted to that feeling of constriction right before the release; the moment when her body begged for air, but she would deny it a second longer, just to prove that she could—that she was the master of her own body.

She needed something else to do with her hands. Something idle but entertaining.

 _There’s a deck of cards in his desk_ , came the voice, the one that wasn’t there. Sometimes it sounded like her father, sometimes her brother. Sometimes it even sounded like the Dark Lord, who’d been whispering in her ear ever since her Dark Baptism. The room reeked of His influence, His residue.

He did so love toying with her.

But the Dark Lord wasn’t here; he was in Hell, trapped within the body of poor Mr. Scratch. Of that much, she was certain. After all, if he _had_ escaped, she’d certainly be dead by now.

Deciding a game of solitaire might actually do her some good, Zelda followed the voice’s suggestion, opening the top drawer to find that there was, indeed, a deck of cards there that had been weathered with age. They looked to be Edward’s, not Blackwood’s, as they bore the Spellman family crest.

A sharp pain stabbed between Zelda’s ribs as she slid them out of their container.

She missed her brother.

But more than that, she missed… she missed _before_. Before everything had gone to heaven in a handbasket, when she could still sleep through the night. When she could relish her power without the reminder that there was no one left to challenge it. When she could look at Sabrina’s bright young face and not feel this gnawing sense of dread that she was utterly failing to raise her properly.

Zelda set up the seven rows of cards, feeling her rapid heart rate slow as she did.

Solitaire had a clear objective—a solid beginning, middle, and end. At least if she finished a game, she could prove that she was able to still do _something_ right.

Zelda had always been a talented card player. Much to her mother’s dismay, her father had taught her how to play poker on the eve of her eleventh birthday—not that he _acknowledged_ it was about to be her birthday, at the time. Being born on the 25th of December, Zelda had never had a “normal” birthday in her life, even by witch-standards. But that one memory—that one evening where he treated her like she mattered just as much as Edward—stands out in her mind as she takes another long drag of her cigarette.

Observing the old, battered deck laid out in front of her, she allows herself a moment to remember a time _before._

Her father had taught her how to bluff. He was an accomplished liar himself; she couldn’t have had a better teacher. By the end of the lesson, she could do it so convincingly, she could even fool Hilda, which was a point of significant pride, as her sister had been a gifted empath attuned to her sister’s innermost fluctuations in emotion from the moment she was born. Edward, on the other hand, was easy to beat at cards, because he often boasted about not needing to rely on witch-abilities to see through someone’s bluff even as he consistently lost bets, underestimating both of his sisters time and time again.

Solitaire was hardly a challenge, compared to other more complicated card games, and yet, Zelda couldn’t seem to _focus_ , as her eyes kept drifting to the chess set, still set in the middle of a game, during which she’d insisted Faustus make their relationship legitimate.

Even in the months since he had fled, the office still felt undeniably _his_.

She hadn’t had the strength of mind to tackle all of the little touches that reminded her of him. Hilda had offered to do it for her—to clean and decorate the office such that no unpleasant reminders remained—but Zelda had dismissed that idea out of hand. Just because she’d taken such delight in destroying the false idol of her husband, didn’t mean she was incapable of being around the rest of his things.

She wasn’t a child. She could deal with an old chess set.

…and the desk, where it still felt strange to sit on the Headmaster's side...

…and the chaise, where Faustus had often taken her every which way and then gone straight on to lead the evening prayers...

…and the floor, where—

“Here’s your tea!”

Zelda jumped, making an undignified sound of surprise as she did.

“Sorry, sister. I didn’t mean to—”

“Well, you did,” said Zelda, her voice strained as she reached out to take the teacup and saucer that Hilda had extended. “If you hadn’t just made me a cup of tea, I’d be far more cross with you.”

Hilda bit her tongue, worry clear on her face. “Are you sure you’re alright, love? It’s nothing to be ashamed of if you’re not. You can tell me the truth.”

Zelda gazed at her sister over her teacup, before lowering her eyes once more to her game of solitaire. She felt like Great-Aunt Locasta Spellman, who’d frequently lower her head to her tea or to her sewing to indicate the conversation was over, without having to say a single word.

Hilda didn’t seem to get the hint, however.

“Would you like to play a hand of cards?” Hilda said, sitting on the other side of the desk. “We haven’t played a game together in ages.”

Zelda sighed, urging herself not to snap at her sister, despite the frustration building inside her. “It’s late, Hilda. You should go to bed. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow. I’ll try not to wake you when I come in later.”

Hilda stood from her chair with an understanding, if disappointed, expression. “Don’t worry about waking me. If you do, I’ll just be relieved to know you’ve come to bed.”

Zelda breathed a sigh of relief once her sister was out the door, feeling as though the weight of Hilda’s expectations were briefly lifted off of her. Zelda never realized how heavy someone’s care for her could be.

“Finally, she’s gone.”

Upon hearing a vaguely-familiar voice that was decidedly _not_ inside her head, Zelda choked on her tea, spilling it all down her front as she looked up to see Mary Wardwell—or rather, Lilith—perched in the seat her sister had just vacated.

But Heaven above, the issue of her Queen being right in front of her would have to wait a moment—the boiling tea had _hurt_ where it’d sunk through her clothes, and now her red dress with gold-leaf accents was soaking wet.

“Oh no. What a shame. I rather liked that outfit,” said Lilith, raking her eyes over Zelda’s body where the wet fabric now clung to her skin.

“What are you doing here?” Zelda said breathlessly, not quite recovered enough to remember that she ought to be polite to the woman she planned to worship.

Her rudeness didn’t go unnoticed by Lilith, who stood from her chair and stalked around to Zelda’s side of the desk, like a lioness preparing to pounce. Zelda was still trying to mop up the hot tea with a handkerchief, which amused Lilith to no end. Were they not witches?

Sitting on the edge of the desk, Lilith leaned into Zelda’s space, latching onto to the witch’s wrist to pry it away from her body.

Zelda immediately jumped, not having expected Lilith to touch her. Lilith’s grip was strong but gentle as she took the handkerchief out of Zelda’s hand.

“Allow me,” Lilith said, before placing the handkerchief against her lips and whispering a spell. She then went to work dabbing at Zelda’s dress.

Zelda, for her part, was so shocked by the action that she just remained frozen. She could feel the burned skin beneath the fabric healing with just a light touch of Lilith’s magic. She let out a grateful sigh as the pain was brushed away.

But the relief was fleeting, as the moment Lilith had cleaned the last spot—which was dangerously low on Zelda’s abdomen—Lilith suddenly grabbed her chin with an almost bruising grip.

“Now that that’s cleaned up, I believe you owe me an apology,” purred Lilith, throwing the handkerchief carelessly over her shoulder.

Zelda swallowed, trying not to show her fear. “Apology?”

Lilith hummed. “Yes. I think you were rather rude to me just now with your ‘What are you doing here?’ Why, I’m here to visit my High Priestess, who prayed to me this very evening. Am I not welcome?”

Zelda tried to move her head away, so that she might answer without Lilith’s long fingers pressing into her chin, but the demoness held fast.

“Forgive me,” Zelda began, before quickly adding, “my _Queen_. It won’t happen again.”

Lilith’s smile was all teeth as she nodded. “That’ll do.”

Releasing her chin, Lilith hopped off the desk. As she did, she debated climbing directly onto her High Priestess’ lap, just to see how she’d react. The woman’s submission was intoxicating. Her blood was singing with desire, and she’d only just arrived. It’d been too long since she’d engaged in the pleasures of the flesh with a witch.

But no, that would have to wait. Lilith prided herself on patience when it came to the art of seduction, and she wouldn’t want to press too hard too fast. The last thing she’d want to do is scare Zelda off, as she was the first witch to ever create a Church in her name.

Observing the cards that she’d disrupted when she sat on the desk, Lilith said, “Did I interrupt something?”

“No, not at all,” Zelda was quick to insist, as if she were afraid Lilith would leave if she didn’t reassure her soon enough. “I was just having a quiet evening.”

“I’m sorry to have ruined it.” Lilith wasn’t sorry one bit, and she could tell by the look in Zelda’s keen green eyes that her High Priestess wasn’t fooled for a moment.

“You haven’t ruined anything,” said Zelda, moving to pack up the cards. “I was just trying to pass the time.”

“Stop,” Lilith said as she resumed her seat on the other side of the desk.

“Stop?” Zelda echoed, frozen in place.

“Stop cleaning up the cards. I propose a game to get to know each other better,” said Lilith, allowing her eyes to wander over Zelda’s figure once more, so that her meaning would be clear. “I believe the mortals call it… poker?”

A sly smile creeped onto Zelda’s face. She’d never lost a hand of poker in all her adult life. In fact, the last time she’d lost a game, she’d been only thirteen, and it was against her father. Some of the only good memories she had of her father were over a game of cards.

If her queen wanted a game, she’d give her one. But she wasn’t about to go easy on her.

“Alright. Poker it is,” Zelda said, pulling a box of betting chips out of her desk.

“But I don’t want to play with money,” Lilith said, leaning over the desk so that Zelda would get a good view of her chest.

Zelda’s mouth went dry, trying not to stare at the tight black leather coat her queen was wearing. “Then what are we going to use to bet, besides the chips?”

“Clothes,” Lilith said, her fingers running along the collar of her jacket. “When I engage in mortal games, I play for pleasure, not profit.”

Zelda nodded, her confidence building. She had to admit, the thought of seeing what was beneath Lilith’s jacket lit a fire inside her.

“Shall I deal?” Zelda said, shuffling the deck with a cascading flourish.

“Please.”

* * *

The first hand was well under way when Lilith chuckled to herself. “Have you stacked the deck?”

“Of course not,” Zelda replied, raising an eyebrow. If this was a bluffing tactic, Zelda thought it was a poor one. “You saw me shuffle yourself.”

“That I did,” said Lilith, winking.

“Shall we reveal our cards, or would you like to place another bet?” said Zelda, gesturing to the chips in the center of the desk.

“I think the pot is sweet enough for me,” said Lilith, her eyes dropping to Zelda’s lips.

Heat crept up Zelda’s neck as she showed her cards. “Three Kings.”

Lilith’s grin was positively _feral_ as she laid out her own cards. “Straight. Seven-high.”

Zelda’s heart rate sped up. “I’ve never lost a hand before.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” said Lilith, gathering the cards since it was her turn to deal. “Well? Are you going to pay up?”

Zelda thought about it for a moment. It was hard to think with Lilith’s blue eyes burning a hole into her clothes. Finally, she smiled, slipping an antique ring off of her finger.

“Here,” Zelda said, sliding it towards Lilith.

Lilith raised an aggressively-arched eyebrow. “I’m not sure accessories should count as clothing.”

“Well, you didn’t specify that before we started,” said Zelda, watching as Lilith picked up her ring to examine it. There was an odd moment where something unidentifiable passed over Lilith’s face before Zelda watched as the Queen of Hell slipped it onto her ring finger.

“I’ll keep it safe for the time being,” she said, dealing out the next hand.

* * *

Zelda won the next round with a Royal Flush, but it was really _she_ who was flushed, not the cards, because Lilith immediately stood to remove her leather jacket.

“I stole this from that schoolteacher. You wouldn’t _believe_ the naughty things she has in her closet,” said Lilith, untying her belt so slowly it felt like the demoness was simply toying with Zelda.

“That doesn’t surprise me—” Zelda began, but she cut off her own sentence when Lilith dramatically peeled the jacket off of her body and dropped it in a dramatic flourish to reveal she wasn’t wearing anything underneath it.

“Like what you see?” said Lilith, leaning so far over the desk that Zelda thought she would surely lose her balance and fall on top of the pot.

Zelda could hardly breathe. She didn’t know where to look! Lilith clearly _wanted_ her to look, but in all her years of orgiastic carnality, she’d never had someone with so much more power than her be so quick to relinquish their clothing. Usually it was the other way around; it was _she_ who would use her nakedness to baffle and beguile. Zelda would be the first to admit she’d had many a naked rendezvous with a fully-clothed man, and often was met with resistance when she tried to even the score by undressing them.

The switch of roles was intoxicating. She’d never been so attracted to someone in her entire life. “Did you really walk into my Academy wearing nothing but a leather coat?”

Lilith sat back down on her chair before lifting her legs over the arms to show off her thigh-length stockings and heels. “Don’t forget these.”

Zelda was struck entirely speechless by the display. Try as she might, there was nowhere to look that wouldn’t have her on her knees in a heartbeat.

“It’s your turn to deal,” Lilith said, her blue eyes laughing.

Zelda’s shuffling was far more elaborate this time, if only to give her something to focus her attention on besides the naked woman sitting opposite her. It was growing uncomfortably hot in the room, or else Zelda was simply growing unbearably hot herself. Her thighs were already slick beneath her dress.

“Are you going to deal or not?” Lilith pressed, her tone more amused than impatient.

Zelda dealt the cards quickly, one at a time, until they each had five. “Aces high, Jokers wild?”

“As they come,” Lilith joked, picking up her cards.

She smirked as she peered at Zelda over her hand. The High Priestess was clearly flustered; Lilith longed to wipe the sweat off of her brow. Perhaps it was time to expedite the process.

The first round of betting happened, with Lilith making a conservative bet just so she could mess with Zelda later. Zelda matched it, as the game had only just begun.

“How many cards would you like to draw?” said Zelda, throwing three of her own into the discard pile and drawing three new ones.

“None.”

“None?” Zelda said, her eyes snapping to Lilith’s. “You’re saying you don’t need to exchange a single card?”

“Not one,” said Lilith, fanning herself coquettishly with her hand of cards. “Let’s bet.”

And so they did, Lilith delighting in the mystified look on Zelda’s face as Lilith suddenly bet a much higher amount than before, despite not having changed her hand one bit. Zelda matched it, as the chips were more symbolic than anything else in strip poker.

With a flourish, Lilith revealed her cards. She had nothing but a high ace, while Zelda had a pair of fives.

“I’d be more impressed with that bluff if we were actually playing for money,” said Zelda, smiling at Lilith’s antics without meaning to. “I don’t know why you’d intentionally lose a round.”

“Who said I lost?” said Lilith. Quick as a flash, Lilith was on Zelda’s side of the desk, raising one leg so that her stockinged foot was next to Zelda’s head, the shoe having been lost in the flourish. “Would you be a darling and help me with this?”

Zelda’s face was a veritable tomato as her eyes flickered from Lilith’s face to her leg.

“Well?”

“Of course, my Queen,” said Zelda, her hands trembling slightly as she reached to grasp the top of the stocking, which was tied with a ribbon at the thigh. She wanted to make quick work of it, but Lilith’s eyes were ordering her silently: _Slowly, now_.

The ribbon came undone easily, and then Zelda was peeling the stocking down Lilith’s leg with reverence. When she got to the ankle, Lilith pointed her toes. Zelda made quick work of the rest, trying not to let Lilith see how much her hands were shaking. She offered the stocking back to Lilith, but the demoness shook her head.

“Keep it.”

Zelda’s jaw dropped as Lilith returned to her side of the desk and gathered the cards to start another round, heedless of how the High Priestess was sitting there, mute, her palms sweaty as she clutched the stocking in one hand.

* * *

Lilith won the third round, mostly because Zelda was too distracted to put any real effort into the game. Just as Zelda was about to take off her broach, the demoness made a noise of disappointment.

“Ah, ah, ah. No more accessories. I propose a new rule: the other player gets to decide what piece of clothing is removed.”

Zelda’s eyes widened. “That’s hardly fair considering you’re already naked.”

“Is my High Priestess accusing me of being an unjust ruler?” said Lilith, and oh, did the words _my High Priestess_ go straight to Zelda’s core.

“Not at all, _my Queen_ ,” said Zelda, stressing the last two words in her own show of possessiveness. She was done being toyed with.

Perhaps it was time to turn the tables.

Standing up to walk around the desk, Zelda stopped just outside of Lilith’s reach to challenge her. “Well, what would you like me to take off? Your wish is my command.”

“My _command_ is your command,” said Lilith, her tone playful rather than reprimanding as she reached out to pull Zelda closer.

“I’m perfectly capable of removing my own clothing. Just tell me what you want off.”

“I want it _all_ off. But I’ll settle for this dress,” said Lilith, standing up with not an ounce of care shown to her own nakedness. Zelda had a hard time keeping her eyes on the demoness’ face as Lilith ever-so-slowly undid the latch on her belt.

“I know how much you love a good belt,” said Lilith, holding it up like a trophy.

Zelda shivered, wondering what, exactly, that meant. How long had Lilith been watching her? The last time Faustus had taken a belt to her back was long before she’d known “Mary Wardwell’s” true identity.

Lilith frowned as she looked at the dress, clearly unsure how it came undone. Taking Lilith’s hands in her own, she directed her to the end of the ribbon that made up the gold leaf design. “You have to undo the ribbon, and then it just… slips off.”

Lilith’s eyes darkened with lust as she began to unlace the ribbon. She moved in close as her fingers worked, their bodies nearly pressed flush against one another, so that she might whisper in Zelda’s ear as she did it. “How delicious.”

When Lilith was finished, she took great pleasure in peeling the dress off of Zelda’s shoulders before letting go, allowing it to slip down on its own until the fabric was pooled at her feet.

Zelda shivered. While she’d been burning with heat only a moment ago, she was suddenly beset with chills as Lilith took in her vintage lingerie. This morning she’d chosen to wear an ivory bra and a high-waisted girdle with garters attached to nylon stockings. Her nylons were a relic of the World War II silk-scarcity. Not that she’d ever _personally_ been short on silk, as she’d made many a trip to Japan before the war. It was just that she tended to get dirty looks when she showed off her own good fortune during the war, and Hilda had _insisted_ Zelda adapt to the fashion of the time, lest she call anymore unwanted attention to the Spellman family.

“What a pretty picture,” Lilith murmured, her mouth so close to Zelda’s she thought she might just kiss her. Lilith’s eyes dropped to her lips, confirming Zelda’s suspicion. Trembling with anticipation, Zelda closed her eyes, waiting with bated breath for Lilith to press their lips together.

And then… nothing.

Lilith returned to her seat, smirking as Zelda’s eyes shot open.

“I’m sorry, were you expecting something?”

Zelda’s eyes narrowed, but she bit her tongue to keep from saying anything she might regret. She left the dress pooled on the floor, moving back to her own chair. The wood felt terribly cold where it bit into the backs of her bare thighs as she sat down.

“Another round?”

* * *

Zelda lost again, mostly because she no longer cared about the game.

“What shall we take off this time?” said Lilith, making a show of tapping her finger against her chin in thought. “I know.”

Zelda’s heart nearly stopped as Lilith came to kneel in front of her.

“I think these need to go,” Lilith said as she opened the clamps of her garter, allowing the nylons to roll down her thighs. “And this.”

Lilith reached for the metal zipper on the side of Zelda’s girdle.

Time stood still for a moment, as Lilith seemed to ask permission with her eyes. Zelda nodded, though she wanted to make a snippy comment about her nylons and her girdle being far more than _one_ item.

Lilith pulled Zelda out of her seat, needing room in order to pull the girdle down. Zelda stepped out of it with a hand on each of Lilith’s shoulders, gasping when Lilith suddenly clutched at her ass and pressed her mouth against Zelda’s panties.

“You’re soaking,” Lilith growled, her voice vibrating against Zelda’s pubic bone. “Game’s over. I win.”

Before Zelda had time to react, Lilith had grabbed her beneath the thighs and plopped her on the desk, scattering chips and cards everywhere. With an impatient wave of her hand, Lilith vanished the remaining cards and other knickknacks on the desk, so that she could press Zelda down onto her back without landing on any extraneous items.

Zelda made a loud keening noise from deep in the back of her throat as Lilith pulled the gusset of her panties aside to shove two fingers into her heat.

Lilith chuckled, curling her fingers such that Zelda moaned like a wanton thing, before removing them in order to slip Zelda’s panties off her legs.

“If you’re not quiet, someone will hear you. These walls are thin, and the girls’ dormitory is only a few rooms away. Wouldn’t want your pretty little disciples finding Mother Spellman all wet and willing and moaning for the world to hear, would you?” mused Lilith, spreading Zelda’s thighs open just a tad farther.

Zelda’s moans only got louder, however, as she stroked her, which prompted Lilith to tilt her head. “Unless you _want_ them to hear us?”

Zelda shook her head, pressing her mouth into her shoulder to muffle the sounds she made as Lilith brushed her thumb against her clit.

A smile broke out across Lilith’s face as an idea struck her. “As much as I love the sounds you’re making—and believe me, I would like to listen to them all night long—I don’t want to be interrupted by your flock of young witches and warlocks. I might just need to gag you if you’re incapable of being quiet.”

Rather than falling silent, Zelda just moaned louder into her shoulder as she came hard and unexpectedly quickly around Lilith’s fingers.

“Interesting,” Lilith mused, wiping her fingers off on Zelda’s thigh, which trembled beneath her touch. “You’d _enjoy_ that, wouldn’t you?”

Zelda was struggling to catch her breath as she gave a short, sharp nod.

“You’ll tell me if it’s too much?” Lilith said, having not planned on this encounter to escalate into that territory so quickly, despite knowing that Zelda was no stranger to kinky sex. “You’ll make it known if it stops being enjoyable?”

Lilith knew Zelda could easily use magic to get herself out of any situation she wasn’t comfortable with, but it made her feel better to establish that she would stop at a moment’s notice if something was wrong.

“My Queen,” Zelda purred, propping herself up on her elbows. Lilith was momentarily distracted by the woman’s wild strawberry-blonde locks tangled about her shoulders. “There is nothing I want more than to show you my complete and utter _devotion_.”

Lilith reached out a gentle hand to caress Zelda’s cheek. “Do you trust me?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Zelda said, her voice thick with lust.

“And you _will_ make it known if you’re uncomfortable?”

By way of answering, Zelda seized Lilith by the back of the head, her hand taking a tight hold of Lilith’s hair, and crashed their lips together. Lilith mewled, despite her best efforts to maintain an air of dominance, as Zelda pulled on her hair _just right_ to make her shiver.

It was all tongue and teeth and sweet, sweet desperation. Lilith lost herself in the kiss, not having had such devotion shown to her in a long time. When they finally broke apart, both were breathless. Lilith stroked Zelda’s thighs, idly, waiting for her to catch her breath before she summoned the gold ribbon that had previously formed the leaf pattern on her dress.

Zelda’s eyes sparkled with excitement as Lilith took both of her wrists and laid a kiss on the inside of each.

“I think,” Lilith said, whispering a binding charm so that Zelda’s wrist suddenly snapped together where she’d kissed them, “if you can’t keep your hands to yourself, I’ll have to punish you.”

Zelda practically _whimpered_ as Lilith wrapped the gold ribbon around her wrists, though the ribbon was mostly for show. Lilith then helped Zelda ease herself back down so that she was lying flat on the desk, before Lilith had her raise her hands above her head.

“Keep them there. Don’t move a single muscle, or I’ll have to find a more suitable punishment for your misbehavior,” Lilith said as she stroked Zelda’s thighs. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten about the gag—I just want to do a little experiment first.”

With that, Lilith peppered kisses down Zelda’s stomach, leaving red lipstick marks as she went. The witch’s belly was delightfully rounded, paired with deliciously full hips that Lilith made sure to squeeze as she lavished the curve with appreciation. All the while, Lilith kept a sharp eye out for any forbidden movement, but Zelda appeared to be trying her best to behave.

This changed, however, when Lilith’s mouth descended onto Zelda’s slick folds, and the witch began to squirm.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Lilith said, stopping her ministrations. Zelda groaned at the loss. “I said _don’t move_. And you’ve already forgotten to be quiet!”

Grabbing Zelda’s panties, which she’d discarded on the chair, Lilith leaned over Zelda, allowing their bodies to slide against one another and her thigh to press up against Zelda’s core. As Zelda moaned, Lilith balled up the panties and stuffed them (gently, gently) into Zelda’s mouth, silencing her mid-moan.

“There. Perhaps now you’ll remember your instructions.”

Satisfied with her work, Lilith’s mouth returned to Zelda’s core, tracing patterns with her tongue that would shatter even the most stoic of recipients. But Zelda remained still, every muscle in her body tense as she climbed closer and closer to a second orgasm.

Lilith’s fingers joined the effort, first two then three pressing against that place that she knew would bring her to completion. Zelda’s thighs trembled, closing around Lilith’s head in defiance of her “no moving” rule, but Lilith could hardly blame her.

Nevertheless, she would be remiss if she didn’t point it out. Pausing a moment, she smirked as Zelda’s groan of disapproval was muffled by the panties in her mouth. “Now, now. Good girls don’t try to suffocate their queen with their thighs, as delicious a death that would be.”

Zelda obediently flattened her thighs back down onto the desk.

“Good girl.”

Rather than go back to the beginning of her teasing as punishment, Lilith decided she would be merciful and bring the witch’s suffering to a quick end. She scraped her teeth on Zelda’s clit, enjoying how the woman’s body immediately jerked and clenched around Lilith’s fingers.

Zelda let out an almighty cry of bliss; luckily the sound was mostly captured by the gag, or else they surely would’ve had unwelcome company knocking on the door. Satisfied that she’d sufficiently rewarded Zelda for praying to her earlier, Lilith moved back up her body and tugged the makeshift gag out of the woman’s mouth, delighting in the look of pure lust on Zelda’s face as she did.

The moment the gag was out of her mouth, Zelda leaned up to seal their lips together, though she had to arc her back significantly to do it with her wrists still bound above her head.

Eventually, they broke apart, Zelda’s breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. “Thank you, my Queen.”

Lilith moved to untie the ribbon, but Zelda shook her head. “Leave it. I want to show you how well I can worship you, even without my hands.”

Lilith had to admit, that was an appetizing prospect. She guided Zelda up off of the desk, smirking when Zelda immediately sunk to her knees.

“Shall I sit?” Lilith said, dropping back into the chair and spreading her legs obscenely wide. “I have a feast for you.”

And so, Zelda dined with royalty. Or rather, _on_ royalty. And true to her promise, she did it ever so politely, without ever having to lift a finger.


End file.
